


love is on it's way

by myownremedy



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Character(s) of Color, Getting Together, Jewish Courfeyrac, Multi, POV Outsider, Trans Grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:18:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5260553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myownremedy/pseuds/myownremedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Grantaire and Combeferre start dating, it's up to Courfeyrac to help Enjolras figure out his feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love is on it's way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brogendered (notmydivision12345)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmydivision12345/gifts).



> Thanks to Maya and Fox for alcohol related help. Maya’s tip about lemon drops being “basic” was invaluable; Fox helped me pick out Courfeyrac’s and Eponine’s drinks.  
> Thanks to adaringdrinkerofdreamers and helicases for the beta, you are both amazing <3
> 
> This is a combination of two prompts. The prompter also specified that Combeferre and Marius are black and Grantaire is a trans man. I also wrote Enjolras as Korean, Courfeyrac as Jewish and Feuilly as a trans woman, the last of which was hard to specify as Courfeyrac and Feuilly never directly interact.  
> edit (2/22/16): added a missing sentence in part 5 that somehow got left out, sorry about that!
> 
> Disclaimer: this is a transformative work. I make no money off of it. I do not own what inspired this work (Les Miserables book, Les Miserables (2011) movie), but I do own this work itself and hold full copyright over it. Please do not show to anyone involved in the movie or put this up on another site such as Goodreads or Wattpad. Thank you.

1.

Courfeyrac frequently walks down the stairs and through the house while texting and balancing a plate, fork, and coffee mug and generally not looking where he’s going. It’s one of his special talents, like texting using only his right thumb or telling really excellent jokes. So it’s not surprising that he doesn’t notice Grantaire leaning against the door until he trips over Grantaire’s enormous feet. Plate, fork, and teacup go flying. Courfeyrac squawks, clutching his phone to his chest protectively as he braces for the sound of stoneware shattering.

The sound never comes. Grantaire, he of the athletic ability and quick reflexes, has managed to catch the plate, mug and fork and is now carefully stacking them.

“That’s quite impressive.” Courfeyrac tells him, pocketing his phone and then holding his hands out for the dishes. “You would make an amazing waiter.”

“Naw,” Grantaire says, surrendering the dishes into Courfeyrac’s arms and following him into the kitchen. “I’m not good with people. But I’d be an awesome busser.”

“Is that the gender inclusive term?” Courfeyrac asks, putting the dishes into the sink. Then: “I just realized I didn’t say hi. Hi, how are you, would you like a hug?”

“Yes, I’m good, and yes.”

Courfeyrac wraps his arms around Grantaire and squeezes gently. “Hi.” He says again as they separate “What’s up? Not to be rude but –”

“– Why am I here?” Grantaire asks, and forces a smile. He’s chewing on his lip nervously.

Grantaire doesn’t come over very often. Ever, actually. Courfeyrac, Combeferre and Enjolras have all invited him over for movie nights and parties and, once, a cookie decorating night, and he’s never shown up. Courfeyrac and Combeferre understand. Enjolras obviously doesn’t, but he’s never asked.

“Well, I’m here for my date.”

“Oh.” Courfeyrac can feel his eyebrows shooting up. They’re almost at his hairline. How did he not know about this? Grantaire and Enjolras finally worked their shit out? When did that happen? How did that happen? More specifically, how did Enjolras lever himself out of the clamshell of his denial and admit/embrace his romantic feelings for Grantaire without any help? Does this mean Enjolras has realized he also has feelings for Combeferre, who also seems to have feelings with Grantaire? How did any of these perpetually feelings-shy people get their shit together without asking Courfeyrac for help?

“I’m not in the loop, it seems,” Courfeyrac says. Grantaire twitches and Courfeyrac realizes, suddenly, that maybe that was on purpose, maybe this date was supposed to be kept a secret, maybe –

Over Grantaire’s shoulder, Courfeyrac sees Enjolras climb down the stairs, nose buried in a textbook that he’s holding with one hand. In the other hand he’s holding three mugs, elegant brown fingers looped through their handles. Enjolras moves from stairs to foyer and turns automatically to head into the kitchen, still frowning down at his textbook. Grantaire opens his mouth, apparently unaware of Enjolras advancing behind him, and suddenly Courfeyrac understands exactly what’s about to happen.

“My date with Combeferre,” Grantaire says just as Enjolras reaches the doorway of the kitchen. “He didn’t, uh, tell you?”

_CRASH!_

Grantaire jumps violently and spins to see Enjolras staring at him, his mouth open, broken crockery and a textbook lying at his feet.

“What?!” Enjolras croaks.

Courfeyrac barely restrains himself from face palming.

Under Enjolras’s gaze it is as if Grantaire cannot help himself from baiting Enjolras. He adopts a faux casual pose, leaning against the kitchen counter, head cocked as if to mock Enjolras.

“Surprised?” He asks, something dark submerged in his voice. “Not all of us can be married to the cause, Enjolras.”

“I –” Enjolras cuts himself off and stoops to pick up his textbook, carefully unbending the pages. “I’m happy for you.” Courfeyrac, bent under the sink to find the brush and dustpan, cannot see his face, but he can imagine it. The earnest dark brown eyes, the somber mouth in a straight line.

“Oh.” Grantaire’s voice is so soft Courfeyrac knows he must not have meant to say that aloud. Courfeyrac stands up, having found the dustpan and brush, and sees that Grantaire has deflated slightly. “Thank you.”

Enjolras nods, oddly formal. “Are you having your date here, then?” He asks. It feels like a wall has lodged between him and Grantaire, a wall only Courfeyrac is able to cross. And he does, moving to hand Enjolras the brush and squatting to hold the dustpan for him. Enjolras sets down his textbook carefully.

“No,” Grantaire and Combeferre say. Courfeyrac looks up to find Combeferre behind Enjolras, looking sheepish. He also looks nice, in a red sweater that flatters his dark brown skin, dreads held back by a hair tie that may have originally belonged to Cosette.

“A wonderful start to our date, right?” Combeferre asks Grantaire. “Me asking you to wait inside for a few minutes while I get ready.”

“It’s fine,” Grantaire says. Enjolras and Courfeyrac stand, Courfeyrac picking up Enjolras’s textbook, Enjolras shooting a tight smile to Combeferre. Combeferre looks like he wants to do something – to lay a hand on Enjolras’s shoulder, perhaps – but he doesn’t.

“Well.” He says. “We should be on our way, then. Grantaire?”

“See you later.” Grantaire says, nodding at Courfeyrac and Enjolras. They both move out of the way so he can follow Combeferre out of the kitchen, and then out of the house.

“So.” Courfeyrac  says, watching Enjolras cross the room to dump the broken mugs into the trash. “That was –”

“No.” Enjolras interrupts. “We’re.” He pauses, takes a deep breath and runs one hand through his long black hair. “We’re not talking about this.

“About the fact you broke my favorite mug?” Courfeyrac asks smoothly. Enjolras shoots him a look, mouth pursed, but he relaxes slightly. It’s always good when Enjolras’s shoulders lay flat.

“Tell you what.” He says dryly, bending to stow away the brush and dustpan. “Tomorrow we’ll go to Goodwill and you can pick out our new mugs.”

“Really?!” Courfeyrac lets himself be distracted. “Even if they say ‘Grand Old Party’ on them?!”

“Okay, no.” Enjolras straightens and scowls at Courfeyrac, holding his hand out for his textbook, which Courfeyrac surrenders. “Unless you want me to ‘drop’ more mugs.”

“You wouldn’t!” Courfeyrac gasps in mock horror, following Enjolras up the stairs. “They’re defenseless, Enjolras! What have they done to you?!”

“They’re Republican.” Enjolras says, turning into his room.

“A mug cannot have a political party affiliation!” Courfeyrac calls, turning into his own room. Moments later, Enjolras’s door slams shut. Courfeyrac, a wise and considerate man, decides to let him be.

 

Combeferre gets in late. No one brings it up at breakfast.

 

2.

The date is not a one-time thing. Combeferre continues to go out some nights and not come back until late. How he manages doing pre-med and dating and helping lead the meetings and work and religiously attending local protests boggles Courfeyrac’s mind. There’s a reason Courfeyrac is single right now: he’s too fucking busy.

Also he may not be as good with time management as Combeferre, but that’s beside the point.

 

The date is so not a one-time thing that Combeferre gets distracted at meetings sometimes. A particularly loaded look between him and Grantaire results in Combeferre stopping abruptly in the middle of his sentence, tugging at his collar. Enjolras frowns at him then looks between him and Grantaire, who is beet red. Courfeyrac is sure if Combeferre’s skin was pale enough to show a blush, he’d be just as red.

Enjolras’s face sort of collapses on itself when he figures out what’s going on, all animation and expression fading away. Courfeyrac takes pity on all of them and finishes Combeferre’s sentence. He wants everyone to focus on the need for more cold weather shelters in the city, not the weird triangle between Enjolras, Combeferre, and Grantaire.

Eponine, sitting next to Cosette, raises her eyebrows at him. Really? She asks silently. As Feuilly stands and starts talking about the intersections of poverty and victim blaming, he widens his eyes at Eponine. I don’t know he answers. Eponine shrugs: we’ll talk later.

 

Later, at the end of meeting, when Feuilly and Enjolras and Bahorel are discussing the housing crisis, when Combeferre and Grantaire are smiling in a private conversation, and Cosette is ignoring Marius to talk earnestly to Jehan, Courfeyrac finds Eponine. She’s watching Marius and scowling.

“Hi.” Courfeyrac says, moving until he’s leaning against the wall next to her, so she can still see Marius. “What’s up?”

“All of this drama is annoying.” Eponine says without preamble. “I’m tired of relationships I’m not even in affecting my life.”

“Tell me about it.” Courfeyrac sighs. “No, literally, tell me about it. What’s going on?”

He watches Eponine squint thoughtfully. “Marius has been keeping a major secret about Cosette’s dad from Cosette. She found out and now she’s pissed and sleeping on mine and Gavroche’s couch.”

“Oh, wow.” Courfeyrac turns to look at Cosette, who is now talking to Musichetta. Joly and Bousset and Bahorel and Feuilly are all talking, and Enjolras is…unmoored, looking out at all of them. “Do you think they’re going to break up?”

“Hard to say.” Eponine keeps frowning. “How long have Grantaire and Combeferre been a thing?”

“A couple weeks.”

“How is Enjolras handling that?”

Courfeyrac gestures (subtly) to Enjolras, whose face is once again an unreadable mask. “What do you think?”

“This is so stupid.” She mutters, tucking a strand of blond hair behind one ear. “They should all date.”

“Hopefully they’ll all come to that conclusion.” Courfeyrac says, just as quietly. “Hey, do you want to get drunk tonight?”

“God, yes.” Eponine sighs. “Cosette will probably babysit Gavroche, let me go ask.”

 

“What the fuck is a buttery nipple?” Eponine asks 4 hours, a beer, and a whiskey sour later. Her cheeks are flushed and her hair is falling out of it’s bun.

“Delicious.” Courfeyrac assures her, clutching his empty mint julep glass. It’s his second.

“It sounds trashy.”

“Well, we are college students.” Courfeyrac says, gesturing and almost knocking over Eponine’s whiskey sour. He’s kind of a lightweight, it’s embarrassing. He's definitely going to need Enjolras' Korean Hangover Soup tomorrow.  “But not for much longer! We need to have the full experience.”

The bartender sets down their shots and retreats to the far end of the bar, as if afraid that Courfeyrac’s flailing limbs will hit him.

Eponine sniffs her shot delicately before throwing it back like a champ, barely even grimacing. Eponine is so tough. Courfeyrac loves her.

“You’re great.” He says earnestly, then drinks his own shot. “Doesn’t it taste like cherries?”

“No?” Eponine says, but she’s smiling. “God, I’m so glad Cosette isn’t here. I love her so much but I just – need a break.”

“No relationship drama allowed.” Courfeyrac slaps the bar. “None!”

“You know her favorite drink is a lemon drop? How basic is that?” Eponine shakes her head then points at Courfeyrac. “Speaking of relationship drama….this Combeferre-Grantaire-Enjolras shit better not turn into a repeat of the you, Marius, and Cosette situation.”

“What?!” Courfeyrac splutters. “There was…nothing…I wasn’t involved…”

“That’s the problem!” Eponine wrinkles her nose at him. “You pined. I know because I am an expert.”

Courfeyrac registers that this is a conversation they would never have while sober.

“I was subtle.” He insists.

“Sure, honey.” Eponine pats his arm condescendingly. “Anyway – can Combeferre and Grantaire and Enjolras get their heads out of their asses and date each other?”

“I’m working on it.” Courfeyrac insists. “Enjolras is starting to surface from the depths of denial.”

“Whoa, pulling out an alliteration.” Eponine mocks, signaling the bartender for another whiskey sour. “How long do you think it’s going to take?”

“Wait.” Courfeyrac holds up a hand. “We cannot place a bet without Bahorel and Bousset.”

“I’m just asking for a rough estimate.” Eponine says. “And here is mine: not fucking soon enough.”

“Is this what senior year is?” Courfeyrac asks. “Everyone pairing up or breaking up?”

“Wow, getting deep over here.”

“I just thought Cosette and Marius were forever. Like, marriage.”

“Maybe they are.” Eponine shrugs before smiling at the bartender in thanks as he delivers her whiskey sour. “All relationships have rough patches.”

“Yeah but…” Courfeyrac gestures at her. “How bad is this secret that Marius kept? Like on a scale from one to ten?”

“Like, a zillion.” Eponine sips her new whiskey sour. “I would’ve dumped him by now.”

“Dark and difficult times,” Courfeyrac sighs, shaking his head.

“Okay, Dumbledore.” Eponine snorts. “God, why are we even friends?”

“Because I am a people person.” Courfeyrac informs her grandly, stealing a sip of her whiskey sour. “I am the warmth. Combeferre has brains, and Enjolras has passion and vision, but I am the chewy, gooey center.”

“A revolutionary candy bar.” Eponine glances at her phone. “I need to get home.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

“It’s like 25 degrees outside.”

“Let’s share a cab.” Courfeyrac signals the bartender to pay off his tab. “Gotta get you home to Cosette and Gav.”

 

Courfeyrac gets in earlier than Combeferre. He finds Enjolras, asleep on the couch with a highlighter still clutched in one hand. Enjolras does that sometimes, waits up for them even though they tell him not too. Almost four years later and Courfeyrac still thinks it’s cute.

“Enjolras,” he says, touching Enjolras’s arm. “C’mon, wake up.”

“Mmmm?” Enjolras asks. “S’Combeferre back?”

“No. He…he’s still out.” Courfeyrac pretends not to see Enjolras’s lips purse. “Enjolras –”

“– Don’t wanna talk about it.” Enjolras mumbles, letting Courfeyrac seize his highlighter.

“Okay.” Courfeyrac agrees. “Let’s get you to bed.”

 

3.

It seems to come to a head one afternoon not long after Grantaire’s top surgery and Courfeyrac’s bar adventure with Eponine. He, Combeferre, and Enjolras are sitting in the living room and studying, when Combeferre glances at the clock and gets up abruptly.

“What’s the rush?” Courfeyrac asks around the pen between his teeth. He’s trying to find a specific passage about deterrence but he thinks he has the wrong book.

“Date with Grantaire.” Combeferre carefully doesn’t glance at Enjolras. It’s been two months and they’re still tiptoeing around this. Courfeyrac is sick of it.

“Why don’t you ever have dates over here?” Enjolras demands, abandoning his essay to stare at Combeferre accusingly. “Why do you always go over to his place?”

Courfeyrac and Combeferre stare at him.

“Well, Grantaire isn’t super mobile right now.” Combeferre says after a minute. “Plus, we were trying to be considerate.

“Of who, Courfeyrac? He hasn’t brought anyone home in ages.” Enjolras shakes his head. “Invite him over. Have a movie night or something. Just let me know when you do so I don’t disturb you.”

“That’s – that’s exactly why –”

“It’s your apartment too, Combeferre.” Enjolras says impatiently. “Besides, doesn’t Grantaire live with Musichetta, Joly, and Bousset? It must get crowded. And loud.”

“It does.” Combeferre says after a moment. “Thanks, Enjolras.”

“Don’t thank me.” Enjolras says, turning back to his essay. “Like I said, it’s your apartment too.”

Combeferre stares at him for a minute, looking nonplussed, then retreats upstairs to get ready. Courfeyrac doesn’t know whether to keep looking for the passage about deterrence in international criminal law or to try and have a heart to heart with Enjolras. Is this – does this mean – is he ready?

“I have to finish this essay.” Enjolras says, carefully not looking at him, and Courfeyrac sighs and turns his attention back to his book.

 

4.

Tonight’s meeting, the last before Thanksgiving, turned into ‘chill at the Corinthe’ which means watching Enjolras watch Combeferre and Grantaire while Eponine watches Cosette ignore Marius.

“Wow.” Courfeyrac says as he joins her at her table at the back. “Still going, huh?”

“They’re going to break up.” Eponine says, and downs the rest of her drink. “So. Cheers to that, I guess.”

“She’ll be fine. We’re here for her – unless this is going to be like a divorce and we’re supposed to pick sides?”

“I hope not.” Eponine shrugs. “Never been very good with that.”

“Are you –” Courfeyrac doesn’t even know what he wants to ask. Are you still into Marius? Who would you side with? Are you going to ask Cosette to move in with you?

Eponine hits him with her version of a hard stare. Maybe Courfeyrac is easily intimidated but he’s always found her hard stare to be very effective.

“When is Enjolras going to make a move?” She asks, nodding at Enjolras, who is watching Grantaire laugh into Combeferre’s chest. It’s Grantaire’s first time back since his top surgery, and he looks so much happier. Courfeyrac is so thrilled for Grantaire that it’s hard to breathe.

“Probably never.” Courfeyrac concludes gloomily. “Like, I’m patient, you know? But this –” he waves a hand. “I think he’s determined to make a martyr of himself. Try and let them be happy.”

“If there was a barricade he would die on it.” Eponine nods. “Why are our friends such morons?”

“No fucking clue!” Courfeyrac rubs his eyes. “Why did this happen, ‘Ponine?”

“Do you think if we ply Enjolras with alcohol he will find his courage and confess his feelings?” Eponine asks, squinting at Enjolras. Irma keeps Corinth dimly lit to create the proper ‘atmosphere.’ It makes everything very warm looking and distracts from any grime tracked in from the street. It also makes squinting necessary.

“Doubtful.” Courfeyrac mutters. “Only because he needs to confess his feelings to himself first.”

Combeferre leans over to kiss Grantaire sweetly, and Courfeyrac watches as Enjolras blinks and looks away. Feuilly is also watching Enjolras, concern clear on her face, and soon enough she approaches Enjolras and claps a hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe Feuilly will get through to him.” Eponine shrugs.

“So many missed opportunities.” Courfeyrac tells her. “So many dates. So many chances for them to talk, but – nothing. Whenever I bring it up he says ‘no’ or ‘not right now’. Should I just ignore him? Or should I let him come to it in his own time?”

“Why the fuck are you asking me?” Eponine demands. “You’re the people person in this relationship. In this bar, in fact.”

“I don’t know, Feuilly is also a good people person.” Courfeyrac demures. He watches Jehan strike up conversation with Grantaire and Combeferre. Jehan is always a flamboyant dresser, sometimes balanced out by Joly and/or Bahorel, but tonight they look like especially dashing, ugly holiday sweater spangled with blue and silver sequins.

“Maybe we should trade.” Eponine nods at Marius, who appears to be listening to Feuilly and Enjolras while really staring at Cosette. Cosette is resolutely ignoring him and smiling at the bartender. “You can be nice and considerate to Cosette, and I’ll be blunt and tell Enjolras to get his shit together.”

“He’ll freeze you with the Imperious Glare.”

“How mad does he get when you call it that?”

“Extremely.” Courfeyrac takes a sip of his beer. “Anything to do with monarchy is an absolute no-go. But, maybe you’re right. Maybe we should switch techniques.”

“Report back if you do.” Eponine’s mouth twitches. “I need full details.”

“Noted.” Grantaire and Combeferre kiss again, Grantaire tucked under Combeferre’s arm, and Courfeyrac sighs.

 

5. 

It’s one in the morning on the first day of Hanukkah and Courfeyrac’s final paper for Transitional Justice is due at noon. Combeferre is out, possibly staying over at Grantaire’s, and Enjolras has been in the bath for two hours. Hopefully he’s prepping for the meeting they have later, because Courfeyrac sure isn’t. This essay has taken over his life and it’s still not fucking done yet.

Courfeyrac squints at his third paragraph then scrolls up to look at his thesis. Does his thesis even make sense? He doesn’t –

“Courfeyrac.” Enjolras says, and Courfeyrac jumps. Enjolras is standing in his doorway, wearing boxers, a t-shirt, a towel crown and a determined expression. “I need to talk to you.”

“If this is about the dishwasher, I’ve already filed a maintenance report.” Courfeyrac turns back to his essay. It’s possible his thesis is a complete mistake. Maybe if he just –

“I need to talk to you.” Enjolras announces, as if he is going off to war, or the hunger games, and when Courfeyrac back at him he sees that Enjolras’s hands are clenched at his sides. “About Combeferre and Grantaire.”

Courfeyrac shuts his laptop and turns in his chair, motion for Enjolras to sit on his bed. “Let’s do it.” He says seriously. This might be his final paper but Enjolras’s love life is more important. Besides, maybe this is universe’s way of telling him to take a fucking break.

“I have feelings for Combeferre and Grantaire.” Enjolras says it like it’s a proclamation. “I want to date both of them.” Courfeyrac is betting Enjolras has spent the last 2 hours composing the script he’s clearly reciting. It’s fucking weird, honestly; usually Enjolras just lets the spirit move him and improvises all of his speeches instead of pretending to be Combeferre and moving coolly through a problem. “However I don’t –” He falters for the first time. “I don’t think they feel the same way.”

“Okay.” Courfeyrac says cautiously. “Why do you think that?”

“Because they haven’t approached me or made any indications of interest.”

“Are you basing this on evidence before or after they started dating?”

Enjolras ponders this for a minute, brow furrowed. “After.” He concludes. “In fact, they seemed like they didn’t want me to find out.” Another pause. “Maybe they know that I have feelings for them and they didn’t want to give me ideas.”

“Okay. That is one possibility.” Courfeyrac allows instead of saying no there’s no way that’s possible like he wants to.

“There are a lot of reasons why they haven’t made any moves.” Enjolras continues. “Maybe they don’t know how I feel. Maybe they’re not poly. Maybe –”

“You should go talk to them.” Courfeyrac interjects. “You’re never going to know unless you talk to them.”

“But what if I’m right, and they aren’t interested? Then things will be so awkward.”

“You mean, like the last three months?” Courfeyrac asks, raising his eyebrows.

Enjolras bites his lip. “I don’t – I don’t want to ruin our friendship.” He mutters.

Enjolras usually reacts to fear by getting louder and more aggressive, but romance seems to have shaken all him to his core. It’s almost sweet. If Courfeyrac hadn’t already known how serious Enjolras’ feelings were, this would have convinced him. “I don’t think you could.” Courfeyrac sighs. “Enjolras, Grantaire spends half the meetings flirting with you. It’s elementary school flirting, the pulling the pigtails kind, but it’s flirting. And Combeferre has always cared for you.”

“Then why don’t they say anything more direct?” Enjolras demands.

“Probably for the same reasons you haven’t. Fear of rejection, fear it will ruin your friendship, fear you absolutely aren’t interested.”

Enjolras scrubs a hand over his face. “What do you think I should do? Besides ‘talk to them?’”

“A couple things. First, when you do talk to them, don’t tell them ‘I need to talk to you’ before hand because it will trigger one of Grantaire’s anxiety attacks.”

“I don’t have an anxiety disorder and even I get freaked out when someone texts me that.” Enjolras mutters.

“Exactly.” Courfeyrac agrees. “Just ask him and Combeferre to hang out. Also, ask how both of them are first. If they’re having really bad days, it might be the wrong time to talk.”

“Okay.”

“Second, choose neutral ground for your meeting instead of having it here or at Grantaire’s place. If it goes badly everyone can leave.”

“Yeah, we don’t want Combeferre feeling like he can’t come home. Okay, anything else?”

“Know that they both love you very much.” Courfeyrac says seriously. “And if they aren’t interested, that doesn’t mean the friendship is over.”

“Ugh.” Enjolras sighs. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know.” Courfeyrac says, patting Enjolras on the knee.

“Let me read over your essay.” Enjolras demands, unwinding his towel crown and running his fingers through his hair. “You seem stressed about it.”

“Because I am.” Courfeyrac mutters. “I think through writing it I’ve reversed my opinion on deterrence.”

“In international criminal law? I feel like it’s a case by case basis.”

“Promise me you’ll talk to Combeferre and Grantaire as soon as possible.” Courfeyrac says as he hands Enjolras his laptop. “This whole thing has gone on long enough.”

“Yes, I know.” Enjolras says quietly. His skin is too dark for any blush to show anywhere but his ears, and they’re bright red. For a minute Courfeyrac thinks about pressing the issue, but then Enjolras winces at Courfeyrac’s essay and the moment’s over.

 

By the start of the meeting that day, Courfeyrac has turned in a much better essay, gotten four hours of sleep, and read Enjolras’s notes for this meeting. He feels vaguely guilty for not helping Enjolras or Combeferre prepare, but true guilt is at least another five hours of sleep away.

It’s good he read over Enjolras’s notes; Enjolras keeps losing his train of thought in the middle of speaking. Not that any of them mind. Almost everyone is sleep deprived or scatter brained right now, from finals or from working during the holiday season or from bad chronic pain.

Courfeyrac had actually tried to convince Enjolras to cancel this meeting but Enjolras had been weirdly against it.

Enjolras trails off again and Courfeyrac exchanges a look with Feuilly. Feuilly gestures authoritatively at Enjolras to come and sit next to her as Courfeyrac stands up to finish what Enjolras was saying about making cold weather shelters more trans friendly.

The meeting wraps up thirty minutes early, when Joly has to leave to go home and rest because of his chronic pain and Cosette has to leave to go visit her father in the hospital. It feels wrong to keep going without them so Enjolras calls it and then proceeds to fidget nervously for ten minutes as people pack up their stuff. Courfeyrac goes to sit next to Eponine, crossing his arms on the table and then pillowing his head with them. Eponine drags her fingers through his hair and he sighs happily.

“Enjolras is watching Combeferre and Grantaire be cute again.” Eponine says in an undertone, playing with the hair at the base of Courfeyrac’s neck. “I thought that was going to be over soon.”

“Why do you think that?” Courfeyrac asks, eyes sliding shut.

“Because you texted me five exclamation points at 2:07 last night.” Eponine pulls on an errant curl. “I assumed it was about Enjolras this time.”

“What was it about last time?”

“You found the pumpkin pie recipe you thought you had lost forever.”

“That’s also pretty exclamation point worthy.” Courfeyrac defends.

“Grantaire? Combeferre?” That’s Enjolras’s voice. “Can I talk to both of you for a sec?”

“Oh my god.” Courfeyrac whispers, sitting up and opening his eyes. Combeferre and Grantaire are both staring at Enjolras, Combeferre with his coat half on, Grantaire with a terrified look on his face.

“Sure.” Combeferre says, looking at Grantaire and then back at Enjolras. He takes his coat off again.

“What’s happening?” Eponine hisses.

“He’s making his move.” Courfeyrac can’t believe this is happening. So much has happened in the last 15 hours. He’s overwhelmed.

“He’s doing it now? Oh, fuck.”

“Shut up, they’ll hear us.” Courfeyrac whispers. “Let’s go.” Quietly as possible, he and Eponine stand and try to head out the door.

“Wait!” Enjolras calls. “Will you stay?” He glances at Combeferre and Grantaire. “Do either of you mind?”

“Fine with me.” Combeferre says. Grantaire, looking like he’s going to be sick, nods.

“Uh.” Courfeyrac glances at Eponine, who widens her eyes at him. “Sure, whatever you need.”

He doesn’t know whether to sit down or wait outside and settles for hovering awkwardly in front of the doorway. Eponine leans on the wall near by, scowling. Courfeyrac knows her well enough now to know she’s nervous, not grumpy, but he thinks Enjolras must see her scowl and get nervous because he squares his shoulders and starts talking.

“A lot has changed over the past few months and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Combeferre opens his mouth to say something, then must think better of it and shuts it again. Enjolras keeps talking.

“I didn’t want to talk to either of you about it until I figured out what to say. But life doesn’t give you a chance to adjust when change happens and life doesn’t care about your speeches, life just wants you to say something. So: I like both of you.”

Eponine abruptly grabs Courfeyrac’s hand and holds on so tight it feels like all blood flow has been cut off.

“I have for a long time.” Enjolras continues. “I think we would be amazing together. I don’t want this to come in the way of our friendship,” Enjolras makes a little triangle motion between him, Combeferre, and Grantaire, “and I love and respect both of you to know if you don’t feel the same way, we would work through it. But –” He falters for the first time. “I thought maybe this could work out, and we could all be happy together.”

Combeferre is smiling so hard he looks helpless with it. Grantaire looks slightly thunderstruck.

“Really?” Grantaire whispers.

Enjolras rubs the back of his neck nervously, but he’s smiling too. “Really.” He promises. “I’ve never meant something more.”

Combeferre puts a hand on Grantaire’s shoulder. “I feel the same way.” He admits, glancing at Grantaire. “Grantaire –”

Grantaire flings himself at Enjolras, burying his face in Enjolras’s chest. Enjolras hugs him close and presses a kiss to Grantaire’s hair before holding out a hand to Combeferre, who accepts and comes close enough to kiss Enjolras gently. Enjolras’s eyes close and he sighs blissfully, leaning into the kiss.

“Oh my god,” Eponine whispers into Courfeyrac’s ear.

Grantaire looks up at Combeferre and Enjolras break apart and then Grantaire stands on his tiptoes to kiss the corner of Enjolras’s mouth. Enjolras tilts his head until they’re kissing properly, Enjolras still holding Combeferre’s hand. Combeferre’s usually calm expression is lit up with joy.

Courfeyrac knows he needs to remind all of them that he and Eponine are still here but he has never, ever seen any of them so happy.

Eponine squeezes his hand.

“Well,” he mutters to her. “Our work here is done.”

She grins at him. “As much as I enjoy the free show, you better tell them to stop.”

Eponine has a point. Grantaire, Enjolras and Combeferre are beautiful together, and Courfeyrac is so fucking happy for them, but if Houcheloup catches them she will not be happy.

“Hey, guys!” Courfeyrac calls and Enjolras and Grantaire stop kissing abruptly. They and Combeferre all turn to look at Courfeyrac and Eponine and it’s clear that they forgot Courfeyrac and Eponine were here.

“Sorry,” Enjolras says sheepishly.

“I’m not.” Combeferre and Grantaire say at the same time.

“We’re really happy for all of you.” Eponine says. “But if Houcheloup walks in on you guys she’ll ban us from the Musain for life.”

“Point taken.” Combeferre says as Enjolras starts to pack up his stuff. Courfeyrac thinks about dragging Eponine out of the café but he suspects that Combeferre and Grantaire and Enjolras will get sidetracked by kissing each other if he and Eponine aren’t there to supervise.

Combeferre and Grantaire leave and Enjolras follows, but then pauses in front of Courfeyrac and pulls him into a hug.

“Thanks,” Enjolras says in a rush, his face mashed against Courfeyrac’s shoulder. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s what I’m here for, dude.” Courfeyrac says as they break apart. “I’m really happy for all of you. I'll even avoid going home for a few hours, so you guys can have some...privacy.”

Enjolras’s smiling is blinding. “Thanks,” he says again, and then rushes off to catch up to Combeferre and Grantaire.

“That was really big of you, offering to make yourself scarce.” Eponine says, dragging Courfeyrac out of the café and onto the street. “You’re dead on your feet.”

“What can I say?” Courfeyrac says, then yawns so hard his jaw aches. “I’m a good friend.”

“Ahuh.” Eponine sounds like she’s laughing at him. “C’mon. You can nap on my bed while I help Gavroche with his science project.”

“You’re the best person I know.” Courfeyrac tells her. “Like, seriously. Including Feuilly.”

“Whatever,” Eponine says, bronze cheeks turning pink. “You just want me for my bed.”

“Okay but the fact you found a sleep number bed someone had just thrown out –” Courfeyrac stops as his phone buzzes, and lets go of Eponine’s hand to fish it out of his pocket. “Oh, it’s from Enjolras.”

 

_Enjolras, 5:08 PM_

_btw I’m really happy for both of you!_

 

“What.” Courfeyrac says, showing Eponine the text. “What is he talking about?”

Eponine frowns. “I have no idea.”

 

 

+1.

 “Okay,” Courfeyrac says to Eponine as Enjolras kisses Grantaire, then Combeferre. The meeting has turned into a hang out at the Corinth again, and he and Eponine are at what has become their table. “I regret helping them get together.”

“They’re…sickening.” Eponine agrees, sounding sort of fascinated.

Cosette, sitting on Eponine’s other side, puts her head on Eponine’s shoulder and sighs. She’s been sighing a lot lately, but this sigh is happy. “Young love, springtime, etc.”

“It’s the middle of December,” Courfeyrac points out.

Jehan, overhearing them, grins. “They’re twitterpated,” they say. “It’s cute.”

“They’ve been twitterpated for weeks.” Courfeyrac retorts. “Enough is enough.”

“Though, it was a long fucking time coming.” Eponine grumbles.

“Everyone thank me, I helped.”

“You were the final push, yes.” Eponine waves a hand at him. “Go get me another drink.”

“Yes, dear.” Courfeyrac says, standing and heading over to bar. As he passes the twitterpated trio, Combeferre moves to follow him, signaling the bartender for a drink.

“What, no drink for Grantaire?” Courfeyrac asks when the bartender only sets down one drink in front of Combeferre. “Though…his mouth does seem a little occupied right now.” He physically can’t help himself from making comments like this. He held out for long enough. Now that the three of them are dating, sex jokes are fair game.

“Naw.” Combeferre says, taking a pull of his beer. “The alcohol doesn’t mix well with the pain meds for his top surgery.”

“That makes sense.” Duh, Courfeyrac. “How is he healing up?”

“Pretty well.” Combeferre smiles. “He’s pretty happy, too.”

“I’m so fucking glad you guys worked your shit out.” Courfeyrac confesses without meaning too. “So happy. It’s like the best Hanukkah present ever.”

Combeferre reaches over and pulls him into a hug. “Me too.” He admits to the top of Courfeyrac’s head. Combeferre is tall. “Thanks for being the final push.”

“No problem.” Courfeyrac says as they separate. “Just don’t ask me to move out.”

“Not yet, anyway.” Combeferre’s smile is small and secret.

“Stop, I can only take so much cute.” Courfeyrac slices his hand through the air. “I need to go give Eponine her drink.”

“Come over and talk to us after. Grantaire has missed you. He also told me to tell you that your Hanukkah sweater is atrocious.”

“Thank you! I borrowed it from Jehan.” Hanukkah just ended, but Courfeyrac doesn’t care. Jehan didn’t mind lending it to him, and is wearing an ugly Christmas sweater this time. The holidays have snuck up on them somehow, between the school work and everyone’s relationship drama. “And tell Grantaire to come over to our table! I want to hear about his art final.”

“I will. I have to go tell those guys –” Combeferre gestures at Joly, Bousset, Bahorel, Marius and Feuilly, all enthusiastically singing It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas, “to stop singing before they get kicked out of the bar.”

“Good luck,” Courfeyrac says solemnly before retreating to give Eponine her drink. On his way he passes Enjolras, who nods at him, one arm wrapped around Grantaire’s shoulders.

“God, our friends are disgusting.” Courfeyrac tells Eponine, setting her drink down in front of her. “It’s kind of awesome.”

“You’re such a sap.” Eponine sighs. “Come on, sit down. Jehan offered to teach Cosette how to waltz and you’re blocking my view.”

“Yes, dear.” Courfeyrac says again. Eponine elbows him.

 

Between the dancing and the singing, they all get asked to leave the bar. Grantaire, Enjolras and Combeferre attempt to do a three person waltz all the way home, Joly and the rest singing behind them. It sort of feels like they’re all going caroling, although Joly and co have moved on to singing a One Direction song. Courfeyrac smiles all the way home.

 

 

 

 

**  
**

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are appreciated <3 Happy Holidays!  
> [visit me on tumblr!](http://marnz.tumblr.com/) prompts welcome.


End file.
